But they were unable to succeed; the mast hung over the side of the ship, which it struck with every wave, and threatened to capsize her. Every moment the position of the crew became more dangerous. The shocks were so violent that the men were no longer able to resist them; they clung to everything they could lay hold of; they twined their legs and arms in the hanging ropes. All efforts to control the vessel had become useless, and, seeing no longer any hope of being saved, the sailors began to utter cries of despair.
Pierre Gilles had fastened himself to the mainmast. “If this also breaks,” he thought, “well, I shall die by the same stroke—die without
seeing him!” he cried, still entirely occupied with More. “He will not know that I have tried to reach him, and will, perhaps, believe that I have deserted him in the day of adversity. Oh! how death is embittered by that thought. He will say that, happy in the bosom of my family, I have left him alone in his prison, and he will strive to forget even the recollection of my friendship. O More, More! my friend, this tempest ought to carry to you my regrets.”
Looking around him, Pierre saw the miserable men tossing their arms in despair; for the night was advancing, their strength nearly exhausted, while the vessel, borne along on the crest of the waves, suddenly pitched with a frightful plunge, and the water rushed in on every side.
The captain had stationed himself near Pierre Gilles; he contemplated the destruction of his ship with a mournful gaze.
“Here is this fine vessel lost—all my fortune, the labor of an entire life of toil and care. My children now will be reduced to beggary! Here is the fruit of thirty years of work,” he cried. “Sir,” he said to Pierre Gilles, “I began life at twelve years; I have passed successively up from cabin-boy, mariner, boatswain, lieutenant, captain finally, and now—the sea. I shall have to begin anew!”
“Begin anew, sir?” said Pierre Gilles. “But is not death awaiting us very speedily?”
“That remains to be seen,” answered the captain, folding his arms. “I have been three times shipwrecked, and I am here still, sir. It is true there is an end to everything; but the ocean and myself understand each other. We shall come out of it, if we gain time. After the
storm, a calm; after the tempest, fine weather.” Here he attentively scanned the heavens. “A few more swells of the sea, and, if we escape, courage! All will be well.”
“Hold fast, my boys!” he cried; “another sea is coming.”